


Drowning in pink lemonade.

by KingFranPetty



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Poetry, Bad Writing, Butch/Femme, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Crushes, Developing Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Feelings, First Crush, First Love, Fluff, Love Poems, Metaphors, Mutual Pining, Out of Character, Pining, Poetry, Pre-Relationship, Prose Poem, Romantic Fluff, Secret Crush, Self-Indulgent, Self-cest, Symbolism, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingFranPetty/pseuds/KingFranPetty
Summary: A poem from Gosalyn's point of view about her crush on Nega-Gosalyn based on a short description from a book I read as a kid.
Relationships: Gosalyn Mallard/Nega-Gosalyn
Kudos: 4





	Drowning in pink lemonade.

I remember this description of a girly girl store from a book I read. "It felt like I slid off a wedding cake to drown in pink lemonade." The main character was a boy who didn't like girly stuff but really wanted to get this girl he knew a Valentine. I wondered if he said it was like drowning in pink lemonade because that's how the girl made him feel and actually being in the store itself reminded him of her, or if he just really didn't like being in the store. Either way, I can relate. Because when I look at you, it's like drowning in pink lemonade. 

My lungs burn with the need for air, but all they get is sweet pink liquid. I can't scream or say anything at all. I'm scared, I'm sinking deeper and deeper. It's almost like I'm slipping away into unconsciousness. The pink is so overwhelming, flooding my insides. Flooding and flooding until I see myself apart of it. 

Because you are me. My doppelganger, You have my face and my name. Yet we are so different, a mirror to opposite day. I'd hate to wear a dress but somehow I like how you look in it. The words normally would leave a vomit like taste on back of my tongue, but I can't think of too many other ways too detail you other than Pretty, Beautiful, Cute. I don't have too many friends who are girls, still I'd love to call you my Girlfriend. My reflection to another world, You make me feel all those yucky, mushy, lovey-dovey, junk I never understood. Every love story, every romance, all those Valentine Days, it's so rosey. I hate it. But I think I might be in love with you.

Love...

It seemed so stupid. All those dumb girls on the movies and books and TV shows talking about their crushes like they have nothing better to think about. The cage of lady like behavior. The noose of womanly. The cages of "why don't you act more like a little girly girl?" The box I "should" fit in, Feminine. I hate it all so so so very much. Yet here you stand, exactly everything everyone expected me to be and I don't hate you. Hair in curls and long. Dress puffed out like those black and white movies. Attraction, almost like a magnet. 

I'm drawn to you. 

You make me feel like I'm drowning in pink lemonade but I think I like being around you. 

The End.


End file.
